As if with a newborn again in the house I rise to guide my elderly mother after her surgery Slow slog from bed to bathroom, and back again From muscle spasm to dropping Her hands in resignation, skin pocked like aspen bark Just a few moments of balance brings night breeze Three cautious steps in the dark before the pain ascends again Up from the tightened grip of her right foot all the way To cut buttock and wilting thigh after Posterior replacement with titanium hip, and its cry Unrelenting bedfellow we did not anticipate Her groggy arthritic former piano playing hands Flutter and press against the skin, as if ironing away grimace She wears a silver and turquoise wristwatch band which she Refuses to take off, measuring sleeplessness I attempt to smooth her taut face, respect spit and clench If she’s dreaming, it’s mumbled nightmare having returned To temporary recline in a room of pillows and pull up bar A window where a motion sensor flips on, detecting outside Movement